<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>frost and hot cocoa by mynameisnotthepoint</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23391688">frost and hot cocoa</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/mynameisnotthepoint/pseuds/mynameisnotthepoint'>mynameisnotthepoint</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Druck | SKAM (Germany)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Basically, Gen, Hans and Matteo drinking hot cocoa in the park, Introspection, winter feels</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-03-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 16:01:04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>918</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23391688</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/mynameisnotthepoint/pseuds/mynameisnotthepoint</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>It's freezing outside and Hans decides to take Matteo with him on a walk through his favorite park. An unwilling participant, Matteo is quickly fascinated by the wonderful frosty landscape. And it wouldn't be a fic of mine if there wasn't some time for introspection!</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Matteo Florenzi/David Schreibner (mentioned)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>13</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>frost and hot cocoa</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">


        <li>
            A translation of

            <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23092759">Frost und Kakao</a> by <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/mynameisnotthepoint/pseuds/mynameisnotthepoint">mynameisnotthepoint</a>.
        </li>

    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I wrote this fic back in the winter holidays when we were graced with one of the only frosty days this winter: I was sitting on a cross-counrty train - which was delayed, as always, thanks Deutsche Bahn - and from the window I could see trees covered in a frosty layer of ice fly by. This is kind of my good-bye letter to winter, as the spring flowers are finally showing their colorful heads (or buds).</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Under their feet, the wet and frozen ground crunched with every step they took. Hans had insisted on going for a walk in the park, even though it was minus four outside. Fresh air for a clear head and all that. Reluctantly, Matteo had joined him. Hans could be very convincing when he wanted to. Not even bribery with a homecooked meal had helped: his answer to Matteo’s offer of making him a real carbonara had been <em>I can do that myself, my dear</em>.</p><p>The ground in front of their entrance door had been covered by a thin sheet of ice, as it had rained day before. With careful steps – which made them look like overgrown penguins with hats and the scarves – they managed to reach the U-Bahn entrance from where they could take a train to Hans‘ favorite park.</p><p>When they exited the train and walked out into the frosty air, Matteo realized why Hans had wanted to come here: the grass seemed like it had been dusted with powdered sugar and the barren trees like they had been bedazzled with diamonds. Slowly, they walked down the path that lead them further into the park. Every few meters, Matteo stopped to let his fingers glide along the low-hanging twigs and branches, entranced by the way the ice crystals that had blossomed on the bark reflected the sunlight. It reminded him of snow and the few times he had gone sledding with his mom. When he was seven years old, there had been a huge amount of snow, at least in his memory. They had even given them snow holidays. He remembered mountains of snow at the side of the road, cars that were buried in a meter of snow, and people bundled in thick scarves and woolly hats so that only the tips of their noses were showing.</p><p>Winter was Matteo’s favorite season. He could wrap himself in as many clothing items as he wanted. The layers upon layers also enabled him to wear the sweaters for a long time as they never really touched skin – not that he didn’t do that at other times of year, but they smelled a bit nicer in winter.</p><p>The white layer of ice – or snow, but not this winter – really brightened up the dead and soggy landscape. In cities, it quickly turned into a sad, grey slush which was prone to seeping through your shoes. But still, the white lit up the trees and made them small spots of brightness in a solid mass of grey.</p><p>Hans was way ahead of him and currently wiping off the thin layer ice that had encrusted a park bench. When Matteo at the bench, Hans took out a thermos out of a backpack which Matteo hadn’t even noticed he had with him.</p><p>“Something to warm us up.”</p><p>When Hans unscrewed the top of the thermos, the smell of hot cocoa drifted up with the milky steam that swirled from the flask. He held it out to Matteo, in his other hand a metal mug that he had placed beside him on the bench.</p><p>“Would be a missed opportunity to not enjoy this moment to the fullest,” he said and winked at Matteo in encouragement.</p><p>The cocoa smelled heavenly and the mug warmed Matteo’s hands which had started to freeze during their walk despite the fingerless gloves he was wearing.</p><p>“Thank you.”</p><p>He blew at the drink and carefully took a sip. The cocoa still burned his tongue, but it made his insides glow.</p><p>Together, they looked out at the park. Some ducks were clumsily waddling on the ice that covered a nearby pond; some had embraced it and were sliding along, a few meters at a time. Maybe, by this time tomorrow, the ice would be thick enough to go ice skating.</p><p>Matteo wasn’t that good at it, but he always had fun doing it. As a kid, he had gone to one of Berlins ice skating rinks that were appeared in the weeks before Christmas with Jonas and his dad every winter. Jonas’ dad had tried to teach them different tricks. Jonas had tried to copy them whereas Matteo had mostly been distracted by the other grown-ups and children that skated past them. Afterwards, they would always go for a mug of <em>Kinderpunsch</em> or hot cocoa and roasted chestnuts. Jonas’ dad loved those chestnuts. Jonas, on the other hand, would always secretly give them to Matteo when his dad wasn’t looking or was talking with other parents.</p><p>Later, he had sometimes joined Jonas when he went ice skating with his girlfriends. In retrospect he didn’t know why he had even forced himself to go through that. Maybe he should repay Jonas sometime and let him third wheel when he was out with David. Jonas got along really well with David, though, so there was a possibility that it would backfire on him.</p><p>A soft breeze caressed the hair that stuck out of his hat and blew up some ice crystals that made them glitter even more in the sun. Matteo shivered and clutched his mug of cocoa, which was slowly growing cold. This park, as it was now, would be a nice place to take David to. His boyfriend would probably dart around enthusiastically, photographing everything, or sit down somewhere to put the mood down on paper. He could already picture David’s brown eyes and how they would sparkle, reflecting the glinting crystals around them.</p><p>“Thank you, Hans. It’s really beautiful here.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>How did you like the walk? Do you like toasted chestnuts as much as Jonas does (or doesn't)? </p><p>My thick sweaters can still stay for a bit as the weather has decided to take a nosedive, which makes me kind of happy, not going to lie :)</p><p>Thank you for reading! All kudos and comments are dearly appreciated ❤</p></blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>